


Monday's

by brookebond



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: I mean it is smutty, I'm not entirely sure what to tag this, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Naked Yoga, Sort of Smutty, Voyeurism, Yoga, mutual and consensual voyeurism, neighbours being bad, watching through the window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 15:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: Eames has a very interesting neighbour that he can't help but watch.





	Monday's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dandalfthedisco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandalfthedisco/gifts).



> I'm gonna be entirely honest and admit that I have no clue where this came from.  
> I have a million fics I need to be working on but this demanded to be written.  
> Thank you pinkys_creature_feature for ensuring me that it actually is kind of adorable (despite the voyeurism).  
> Not properly edited and for sure not beta'd but you know, enjoy it anyways. If you want.
> 
> For dandalfthedisco because she's been sick lately and studying her cute little butt off. Plus, who doesn't want a smutty fic gifted to them? I hope you like this little treat.

Eames had this neighbour that liked to do yoga on their balcony. It was a Monday morning ritual for the guy and, after a few weeks, Eames had given in to his urge to watch.

Every Monday while he ate breakfast, Eames’ neighbour went through various poses. There were a few that Eames recognised—tree, mountain, downward dog—but most of them just looked uncomfortable and he couldn’t stop from wondering just how his neighbour hadn’t broken his neck.

“See?” Eames pointed out the window, making sure he didn’t block Ari’s view entirely.

“I’m pretty sure the human body wasn’t meant to bend that way,” she muttered, face practically smooshed against the window. “Do you think he knows you watch?”

Eames stared at her in horror, panic welling inside him. He had a clear view of his neighbour’s balcony which also meant they had a clear view of his living room. He’d never even considered that he might not be the only one doing the watching.

“Shut up,” he managed to mumble, shoving her playfully before turning from the window. Now that he thought his neighbour might have noticed his watching, Eames was hesitant to actually do it. He didn’t want to seem like some kind of stalker, just on the off chance they ever met on the street. Though, if they were to meet now, Eames was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to face his neighbour, not with the thoughts he’d had while enjoying the show.

“Come on then, you promise me breakfast,” Ari said far too cheerfully for Eames’ liking as she looped her arm through his. “I feel like a giant stack of pancakes.”

—

Eames had gone all week—and weekend— without watching his neighbour’s morning yoga routine. It had been difficult restraining himself from being a creep but he had managed.

Now that it was Monday morning, and Eames had no work to occupy himself with, he was at a loss with what to do. Not to mention the fact that he could see his neighbour currently doing a downward dog, presenting his arse in Eames’ direction. His little shorts were stretched delightfully over the most perfect globes Eames had ever seen and he wondered if they felt as good as they looked.

He didn’t notice his neighbour standing, facing him with a smile on his face until it was far too late.

Eames toppled over his couch in his haste to get away and lay on the floor, his heart pounding erratically as it attempted to escape his chest.

“Bugger,” he muttered, banging his head against the hardwood floor, wishing it would help erase the moment from history.

—

“Is there a reason you’re basically living on my sofa?” Ari complained as Eames settled himself in for another night on the lumpy old thing.

“Thought you might like the company,” he replied. “Single young lady living in a big city… You can’t be too careful.”

“This is you trying to hide from your neighbour, isn’t it?”

Eames closed his eyes, burrowing under the sheet further.

“It’s because he saw you, isn’t it?”

Eames pulled the sheet over his head and turned so he was facing the back of the couch, determined to ignore Ari until she gave up.

“Don’t make me kick you out, Earnest.”

Eames groaned, mentally kicking himself for ever leaving his ID out and actually allowing Ari to look at it.

“You are going home tomorrow, even if I have to drive you there myself.”

Eames huffed, gripping the sheet tighter until he heard Ari’s footsteps retreat towards her bedroom. He’d been avoiding being at home since the ‘incident’ as he was calling it. No matter how many times Ari had tried to convince him that his neighbour most likely hadn’t actually seen anything, Eames couldn’t believe her. It had rather been a spectacle and he was sure it was quite the show for him. In all fairness, it was about time his neighbour got some enjoyment out of the watching, but Eames was embarrassed. His neighbour was gorgeous and—while he was sure he’d never actually stood a chance in the first place—there was no way in hell he had a shot anymore.

He drifted off to sleep, thoughts of his neighbour in various poses taunting him.

—

Eames climbed out of the shower, feeling refreshed after his fitful sleep. He’d had a nightmare week and had barely been home, only staying long enough to sleep, change his clothes, and rush out to do it all over again.

But now it was Monday and Eames actually had a whole day off from work and any sort of responsibility at all.

He dried his feet on the bath mat and reached out for his towel only to grab thin air. Eames frowned at the towel rail, trying to decipher why his towel wasn’t hanging up where it was meant to be. As he stood, shivering slightly as droplets ran down his body, Eames remembered that he had dropped his towel in the hamper but had apparently forgotten to replace it. He cursed his lack of a spare in the bathroom but wiped his feet and tread carefully to his bedroom. It wasn’t going to do to slip and have to call an ambulance while he was bare-arsed.

Thankfully, his flat was warm, seeing how it was the middle of summer, and the naked walk to his bedroom was actually pleasant. It was made even better when he spied his neighbour doing his routine.

It had been two weeks since he’d last let himself have the pleasure of spying on him, but, seeing how his back was turned, Eames didn’t think there was any harm if he had a quick look.

He leaned against the window frame, crossing his ankles as he watched his neighbour slowly move through different positions, each of them looking more awkward than the last. He let his mind wander, imagining what it might be like to get an up close and personal look at those yoga positions. He wondered just how flexible his neighbour was, pleasure coiling low in his belly at the thought.

When he came back to himself, Eames, unfortunately, realised that his neighbour was no longer actually doing yoga but rather standing, leaning against the railing with a smirk on his face and a piece of paper that said “Hello”. Somehow, just the one word—though maybe it was the way his neighbour was looking at him—conveyed so much more than just a friendly greeting.

Eames stumbled in his haste to retreat, running to his bedroom in his desperation to get away.

He was such an idiot.

How could he have stood there naked watching his neighbour? How could he have been so stupid?

Eames groaned, pressing his palms to his eyes, desperately willing his erection away. It refused to listen, though, more interested in remembering the way his neighbour's shorts stretched over his arse.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered as he stroked himself, giving in to his urges just this once.

He came in record time, replaying the smirk over and over in his head and wishing he knew his neighbour’s name so he had something to call out as he came over his hand and the floor.

—

Monday’s were the worst day of the entire week, in Eames’ opinion. If he could erase them from existence, Eames would. The only saving grace about Monday’s had been watching his neighbour, but since Eames had accidentally let his neighbour see him starkers, Eames had avoided his living room window at all costs.

It had been three weeks since he’d last let himself have the pleasure of watching his neighbour and he was determined to keep up his streak.

He yawned, stretching as he shuffled through to his kitchen. Breakfast was the only thing on his mind, scrambled eggs calling to him, maybe with a glass of fresh orange juice as well.

His thoughts of food were interrupted as he paused just on the other side of his window, blinking as he stepped back, glancing out the window.

It had to be a trick, a hallucination, a fanciful dream.

Eames pinched his arm, rubbed at his eyes, slapped his cheek, but the vision across the way still remained.

His neighbour was doing his usual routine but he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Not one single item.

Nada.

Zip.

Zilch.

Nil.

Eames stepped closer to the window as though he could climb through it and find himself on that balcony as well. Mere seconds after he moved, his neighbour stood, glancing over his shoulder and grinning when he spotted Eames. He waved, a brief little wiggle of his hand before it slid down his—extremely well-toned—body. Eames gulped, tracking the movement and resenting the wooden railing that obstructed his view.

It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what was going on, though.

Eames pushed his pyjamas down enough to share how much he was enjoying the new show with his neighbour. It was surprisingly satisfying, seeing his neighbour's eyes widen and a hand reaching out to grab the railing. It was even better when Eames tentatively pressed his thumb against himself, spreading pre-come over the head.

He stroked himself slowly, keeping his eyes locked on his neighbour, his heart picking up as his hand did.

His neighbour didn’t last long, fingers tightening on the railing as he came, mouth opened wide in what Eames imagined was a groan of satisfaction. He only wished he could have actually heard it in person. It didn’t take him long to follow, now that he had his neighbour’s full attention, and he quickly came over the window, reaching out a hand to balance himself.

When he caught his breath, and pulled his trousers back up, his neighbour had another piece of paper that had an address and the words “come over” underneath.

Eames didn’t even think about, slipping on shoes and a shirt before leaving his apartment.

—

Eames didn’t even need to knock on the door when he arrived. His neighbour opened it at the exact moment Eames lifted a hand.

“Hi,” he breathed, suddenly unsure about what he was actually doing over there. He was oddly disappointed that his neighbour had put his usual shorts on but was still highly impressed at the expanse of skin that was still on show.

“Hello,” his neighbour replied, a small grin tugging at his cheeks.

Dimples. Over the distance, Eames had never noticed that he had dimples. It was a pleasant surprise. Much like the rest of him.

“Wanna come in?”

Eames raised a brow. “I rather thought the walk would do me some good,” he said sardonically, preening at the chuckle he got in return.

His neighbour grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging him in and kicking the door shut. “I’m Arthur,” he muttered before pressing their lips together in a slow, sensual kiss that made Eames wish he was just a bit younger.

As he returned the kiss, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Monday’s weren’t so bad after all.


End file.
